


34B baker street-Fic

by queen_daisy



Category: Sherlock (TV), Torchwood
Genre: Aliens, Crack, Deliberate Badfic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2014-09-20
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:55:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,020
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2332664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queen_daisy/pseuds/queen_daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, John Watson came home and there was Sherlock, in a dress and make up.</p>
<p>And then stuff happened.</p>
            </blockquote>





	34B baker street-Fic

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [34B baker street [art]](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2319254) by [dante_gabriel_renesmee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dante_gabriel_renesmee/pseuds/dante_gabriel_renesmee). 



> This is unbetaed, written at the last minute, with an author who's ESL and relies on Firefox spell check. Plus, I don't actually care about John/Sherlock and I wanted Jack Harkness and Ianto in the story. And yes, screw the timeline. And related art.

After a hard day at work, John came back to his flat at 221 b, that he shared with his flatmate, Sherlock Holmes. He was living with Sherlock for a while now and he loved it. Sherlock was so clever, always making deductions about everybody they met. John loved him.

Well, not loved like that, obviously. Well, maybe like that. All right, like that. He loved Sherlock and he wanted to have sex with him and hold his hands and maybe hold something else of Sherlock’s. Preferably with some added lube.

He went upstairs and opened the door. There was faint smell of chemicals in the air but that was becoming pretty normal in this particular flat. Sherlock was by the window, back turned to John, looking through the window.

“Hello, John”, he said without turning. “Make me some tea”.

John rolled his eyes but went to the kitchen. To be honest, he wanted a cuppa himself. “Did you buy milk?” he called to Sherlock.

“Oh, John, don’t bother me with such petty concerns. Mrs Hudson brought some before” the younger man answered. John sighed. It was so typical, Sherlock always demanding stuff but never bothering to do anything in return. Why did he have to have such a selfish roommate?

_“Because you love him”_ a little voice in his head answered. John ignored it. He took the two mugs to the living room, back to his flatmate, who was still looking down at the street.

“What’s so interesting?” John asked, putting the mugs down. Sherlock turned and John gasped. Sherlock was…dressed as a woman, there was no other word for it. He was wearing violet dress with deep cut so the pale skin of his chest was on display. He face was made up – blue eyes shadow, eyeliner, mascara, lipstick, everything. And it was expertly applied – there were no smudges or stray lines. 

“Do you like me like this, John?” Sherlock asked. John was confused. What was happening? Oh, right, Sherlock was on some case. He was probably planing some undercover work and that was why he was in a dress, with make up on, that lipstick making his lips extra pouty…

“Um, I” John wasn’t really sure what he was trying to say. His mind was all confused. Cross dressing was not something he ever considered before but now he had to admit, it was actually pretty appealing. He wanted to touch Sherlock and feel the material of the dress, put his hands under and see what was Sherlock wearing underneath it…

Suddenly the door opened with a crash and a man come running in. “Stop right there!”he said, his long coat bellowing behind him. He had some kind of weapon in his hands, a gun or something and he was pointing it straight at Sherlock.

John felt the surge of adrenaline, his body getting ready for fight. He turned to the man and looked at him closely. The man was handsome, in a Hollywood kind of way – dark hair, blue eyes and very pretty face. He was wearing blue shirt and John absentmindedly noticed that he had braces and belt on, what was that. And then a second man came running in, in a dark suit with a tie. John had a fleeting thought that it must be some secret department of Mycroft. It was the only explanation why the flat was suddenly so full of suits.  
“Who are you?” he managed to say. The first man never took his eyes off Sherlock but he still smiled . “Captain Jack Harkness” he said and John noticed that he had an American accent. Maybe CIA? Which still didn’t ruled out Mycroft. 

Suddenly there was a hissing sound and John looked at Sherlock. Sherlock looked at the Harkness with pure hatred on his face. “You’ll never catch me, Captain” he spit out. John saw that his skin was turning purple. His face was changing, his whole body twisting and suddenly, in front of them was seven foot tall… thing, with scales and dark blue skin. He looked like a mutant lizard.

“Step back” Harkness said and John obeyed, his soldier training kicking in. Harkness fired his gun and the other man threw some kind of net over the creature, who was now hissing like a boiling kettle and then fell down, apparently unconscious (dead?). “Ianto, the mallifier” he barked and Ianto stepped close and gave him some kind of shiny thing that looked like a tv remote. Harkness pointed the thing at the creature and Ianto went to wrap the net safely all around the lizard.

John felt like he stepped in some Twilight zone episode. Who the hell comes home to find out that there is some kind of lizard creature in his sitting room and then comes some American bloke to catch said lizard? 

“Ok, what the fuck is going on?” he asked. Just then, somebody else was coming up the stairs and a moment later, Mycroft Holmes came into the room. And wasn’t that the final touch. John was pretty much done.

“All clear.” Harkness said to Mycroft, who was looking at the scene like he was looking at everything – as a lord looking over his subjects. He had his omnipresent umbrella in his hands, leaning slightly on it. “The transport is coming soon” he replied to Harkness. He looked over to John and continued “I believe we owe Dr Watson an explanation”.

“Sir, it would be best if took some retconn” Ianto said. “ This is a delicate matter”.

“I know that, Mr Jones” Mycroft replied cooly. “You don’t have to say it to me”.

Ianto looked away but Harkness looked up from where he was fiddling with the creature and looked hard at Mycroft. “Leave Ianto alone, Mycroft. He’s doing his job and we’re doing you a favor here, so back off!”.

John was surprised that somebody (somebody not named Sherlock, of course) would speak like that to Mycroft Holmes and he suddenly liked this Harkness guy a lot more. Mycroft looked surprised for a moment but then looked at Ianto and quietly said “I apologize”. Ianto Jones just nodded and stayed silent.

Captain Harkness got up and looked around. His eyes stopped at John and John squirmed uncomfortably. Harkness was looking at him like he was a piece of cake and he wanted to try a bite.

“Yes, he’s like that” said Mycroft and John jumped. Harkness just smiled, a wide grin, full of shiny, white American teeth. Ianto rolled his eyes and went to the kitchen. “Who wants coffee?” John heard him ask.  
“Thanks, Ianto” Harkness said. Mycroft said “None for me, thank you” and sat down in Sherlock’s chair, apparently not concerned that seven foot lizard was lying next to his feet. Harkness sat next to John on the sofa, and pretty close, too, despite having plenty of space, even with his ridiculous coat. 

Ianto came back to the room, carrying a tray with four mugs on it. Actually, not only mugs but also milk, sugar and a plate of biscuits and John was sure that there were none in the kitchen. When did this Ianto bloke managed to find them?

“Would you care for some tea, Mr Holmes?” he said in his Welsh accent. 

“There is no tea worth having in this place” Mycroft answered but he still politely took a sip. And then he took another one. “Did you made this?” he asked Ianto accusingly, like Ianto was playing a game and made him excellent tea just to mess with him.

Jack Harkness laughed, loud and happy. “Yes, he does that” he said, taking his own mug of coffee. “Best tea boy in United Kingdom”. Ianto gave a small smile but didn’t reply.

John took the mug left on the tray and took a sip. Well, he had to agree with Mycroft – it was the best damn thing he tasted in this flat. Was this Ianto some kind of wizard? Bloody Harry Teapotter?

“So, John, obviously, I can’t reveal you everything but I’m sure I can count on your discretion. This here” Mycroft pointed at the creature “is a visitor for another planet, the name of which I’m sure I’ll mangle--- “

“Whratpatin” Jack Harkness interrupted helpfully.

“Right. As you can see, he took the form of my brother and tried to harm you” Mycroft said.

“See, John” Harkness turned to him, “we’ve been watching him for some time but he always managed to avoid us at the last minute. We only got his location two hours ago”:

“But what does he want? Why did he change into Sherlock?” John asked.

“Whratpatians feed on love energy. Specifically, unrequited love energy.” Ianto said.

“Um, what?”

Mycroft snorted “Please, John.”

John felt himself blushing and said nothing. Harkness smiled and went on “Basically, they find somebody with such feelings and turn their form into the object of affection.”

“And then?”

“And then they suck their life force” Jack said blankly. “He would suck out all your life force and leave you in a vegetative state. Most victims die after a few weeks”.

“As you can see, the situation was fairly serious and thanks to timely intervention by Captain Harkness, it was successfully resolved” Mycroft said. “Sherlock is actually with Detective Inspector Lestrade and has been whole morning. And we’re done here, is that right?” he looked at Harkness.

“Yep, all done. We can take him away in the car” Harkness said, standing up.

“Splendid. Mr Jones, would you be interested in a position in London?” Mycroft said to Ianto.

“What? You can’t take Ianto, he works for me!” Harkness suddenly seemed livid.

“Nonsense, Mr Jones’ talent is wasted on you. I could make it worthwhile, Mr Jones”

John looked at Ianto, who suddenly seemed subdued. Then he looked up and said “I’m staying in Cardiff, but I appreciate your offer, Mr Holmes”. Harkness smiled at him and gave a “take that, you bastard” look to Mycroft. 

Mycroft ignored it (probably a life long practice), checked his phone and turned to John. “I trust you will not mention this incident to anybody? It is a rather delicate thing.”

John suddenly felt all that’s happened catching up with him and started to laugh. He sat down, only vaguely aware of Harkness and Ianto carrying the big black sack containing the creature and roared with laughter. He knew it was more desperate release than genuine mirth but he couldn’t stop it. And, frankly, he didn’t want to.

Mycroft was calmly looking at him. When John managed to calm himself, he managed to say “So, just we’re clear. I’m not to mention that when I came home today, there was a seven foot alien lizard in the room, in a form of Sherlock Holmes in a drag? And that some Yankee friend of yours came to subdue him with some alien guns?”

“Precisely, John, I knew I could count on you. Ah, I hear Inspector and my brother coming. Please do something about those feelings of yours, hmm?” he looked at John. “After all, we wouldn’t want the repeat of today incident, wouldn’t you agree?”

John want to give him some sarcastic reply but right then Sherlock barged into the room, Lestrade right behind him. “Hello, Mycroft, what are you doing here?” he said, going directly to his chair. Mycroft gave a wan smile to his brother and got up “Actually, I’m leaving. And Detective Inspector, just the man I’m looking for. May I have a word with you?”

“All right, if you don’t mind taking me back to the Yard. I have to get back at the office.” Lestrade said. “Hello, John, will you please feed him “ with a nod to Sherlock”, he almost collapsed at the crime scene”. 

They left and and John sat down. He was watching Sherlock, who was fiddling with his phone. He thought about Mycroft’s words and, really, was he that obvious? If he was that obvious to Mycroft, surely Sherlock must have know, too. 

“Sherlock” he said. “I have to ask you something”

Sherlock looked at John and smiled.


End file.
